Photo: Amitai Asif
Spill the beans
On what is
And never
Should’ve made
Secret.
Share the stories
You know
And others
Also
Have lived.
Find the balance
Between
Private stashes
Of sorrow
And the tender joys
To be had
In remembering
Both.
For The Daily Post
Photo: Amitai Asif
There are eons of old
Set in stone
Pressed in rock.
Do you hear them
Or not
Do you know
What you’re told
Can you feel part of all
That had gone
And which may
Or may not
Come along
To live on?
For The Daily Post
Photo: Amitai Asif
This photo of an ancient synagogue in the Golan in Israel brings up both the frailty and sturdiness of history. The Jewish house of worship in the photo is many centuries old. It reflects millennia of Jewish connection to the area, along with the realities of wars, destruction, exile, division, and battles over God and faith, righteousness and identity … All of which continue to this day … in many faiths and identifications … all over the world.
I look at this photo and where some might see ruins, I see times of destruction and times of rebuilding. I see a testament to time’s eternal light. I feel awe at the masonry and workmanship, at the symmetry and the human stories these walls had seen, heard, lived, know. People have gathered to worship communally in this synagogue, as humans of all faiths had gathered in places of worship around the world before and since. At its core, a house of worship – be it made of bricks, wood, stone, or out in open nature; whether it praises one God or the many deities of spirituality – holds the potential to bring people closer together and closer to appreciating creation and the need for compassion and gratitude.
Geography shifts, empires shuffle people around, greed blinds, circumstances and propaganda preach division (and sometimes even hate and violence), but at its very foundation, humanity withstands, faith remains, hope endures.
May we build on strength and community. May our foundations always hold true and strong.
Photo: Amitai Asif
The tender bloom stays but few days
Yet made of atoms forged
In times
Before eons,
And will remain
As it transforms
To almond, seed, tree, earth, person:
All life’s
Ions.
When woodwork calls
Do not fade in.
When worry weighs
And doubt still gleams:
Color yourself a bolder hue.
Be seen.
Be heard.
Be you!
This year marks 100 years to the first time women were allowed to vote in New York. It led the way to the 19th Amendment and women’s constitutional right to vote.
There are still those who try to suppress votes. There were always those who tried to put others down for wanting equal rights and for seeking access to those rights. Do not let others demonize you for having a voice. Speak up for those who can’t. Seriously: if you can, vote!
For more reasons to vote … Here are some (of the LESS graphic) historic caricature images that were used to shame, insult, threaten, and generally dissuade women from voting.
For The Daily Post
For more about Historic Women Suffragists
For more about 100 years to the Women’s Suffrage movement in New York
Photo: Amitai Asif
In the monotonous pace of desert hikes, there lies a meditative calm: as wispy trails rise and descend, as footpaths curl around a bend, as dirt turns palettes of light and shade, as layers pressed in rock clutch eras so long gone, they are quite literally written in stone.
Photo: Ofir Asif
Some photos of a layered world aren’t pretty. Some are there to remind us of history that shouldn’t have happened yet did: People stacked in slave ships’ holds. People forced to march. People warehoused in concentration camps. People massacred. People just like us … stripped of dignity. Dehumanized.
And yet. People they each were. Each one a universe of thoughts and soul and feelings. Each one worthy. Each a human being.
Layered in the bowels of our collective histories are memories that hurt as the agony they resurrect is peeled away so they be seen. And yet they may be there exactly to remind us what we should know … and never repeat.
Photo: Amitai Asif
In the mighty desert
Old times loom.
Layers of crushed history
Pressed by ancient rain
By ash and mud
Bones and sand.
Carved craters
Cleaved by flaming travelers
Hurling from
Beyond the sun.
Pressed down eras
Sandwiched by eternity
And painted
In primordial
Deposits:
Iron
Copper
Lime.
For The Daily Post
Photo: Amitai Asif
Recreate not what shouldn’t have happened
Yet had
But what should have taken place
And hadn’t
Or not quite as planned,
The seeds of which
Hold promise
To what may truly be
Worth recreating
When time
Once more
Comes around.
For The Daily Post
Tribute in Light — Photo: DOD
On the eve of 9/11
In this city that has been forever changed
As it had its core humanity
Revealed
In uncountable acts of kindness
Under devastation,
I revisit
The day
The sky grew dark
With smoke
And hearts broke open
With compassion.
For more information on tomorrow night’s Tribute in Light
For the National September 11 Memorial & Museum.
A place to improve my writing skills, and that's all.
We're not thriving, we're creatively photosynthesizing under duress.
History of the Bloomingdale area on Manhattan's Upper West Side
A creative miscellany of mythic fantasies
a weekly flash fiction prompt inspired by google maps
A community for writers to learn, grow, and connect.
To participate in the Ragtag Daily Prompt, create a Pingback to your post, or copy and paste the link to your post into the comments. And while you’re there, why not check out some of the other posts too!
I can't sleep...
Alternative haven for the Daily Post's mourners!
never judge a girl by her weight
original fiction and rhyme
You have reached a quiet bamboo grove, where you will find an eclectic mix of nature, music, writing, and other creative arts. Tao-Talk is curated by a philosophical daoist who has thrown the net away.
A photographer's view of the world - words and images to inspire your travels and your dreams
Life in progress
Straight up with a twist– Because life is too short to be subtle!
WordPress & Blogging tips, flash fiction, photography and lots more!
Light Words
Na'ama Yehuda 
You must be logged in to post a comment.